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Updated: May 3, 2025
A hypnotist came to the opera-house and I volunteered to be hypnotized. He couldn't hypnotize me. I felt rather bad about it. I was out of the show. Later I learned that all of the "Perfessor's" best subjects came with him under salary, and the local boys who made good were faking like the professionals. The whole thing was a cheat and I had not caught on.
I had seen enough trouble caused by folks in high station not holdin' up temperance principles at banquets, and I wuzn't to be ketched in the same way, so I waived it off with a noble and lofty jester, but Miss Meechim drinked wine every time it wuz passed, and she got real tonguey before we went home, and her eyes looked real kinder glassy glassier than a perfessor's eyes ort to look.
"But I MUST see them before we go, Henry," she says. And the other was a man's voice and it wasn't no one around our house. "But, my God," he says, "suppose you get it yourself, Jane!" I set up straight then, fur Jane was the perfessor's wife's first name. "You mean suppose YOU get it," she says.
And whatever brand o' disgrace them there agnostics really is I ain't found out to this day, having come acrost the word accidental. Biddy Malone, which was the kitchen mechanic, she says the perfessor's wife's been over to her mother's while this smallpox has been going on, and they is a nurse in the house looking after Miss Margery, the little kid that's sick. And Biddy, she says if she was Mrs.
My eye, but don't I remember! I sweated my liver white." They smoked in silence. "That's a main queer contrivance of the Perfessor's that stockade-like," ventured Solomon, after a little. "He doesn't want any intrusion," I said. "These scientific experiments are very delicate." "Quite like," he commented non-committally.
And he was looking tired out, too. They wasn't no mistake about me. I was jest dead all through my legs. I was down in the perfessor's labertory one day, and that was a queer place. They was every kind of scientifics that has ever been discovered in it. Some was pickled in bottles and some was stuffed and some was pinned to the walls with their wings spread out.
Said he was the best literature in this State, I do believe." I smiled to myself as I thought of the set-to on the road from Shelby. "Well," said Pratt, "if the Perfessor's got any better friends than us in these parts, I'm glad to meet 'em. He come here first time 'bout four years ago. I was up working in the hayfield that afternoon, and I heard a shout down by the mill pond.
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